


This Is What Happens When You Almost Kill Kyle, Eric

by Carimus



Category: South Park
Genre: Also if y'all have suggestions, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Personality Swap AU, Slurs, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, also be ready for that major character death, cursing, eric is kyle and kyle is eric, eric is now a filthy jew, eric is still a coward, i'd like to hear them, its gonna throw ya for a loop, kyle is fuckin badass you guys, kyle is no longer jewish, kyle is now 10x more aggressive, might be smut later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 03:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carimus/pseuds/Carimus
Summary: Eric almost kills Kyle, has a fever dream, and then Eric wakes up a little different the next morning. and so does kahl.also this entire story is dedicated to a friend of mine, you know who you are Cartman.





	1. I see the wires pulling while you're breathing

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so uh please don't judge too hard.

Eric had a plan. A wonderful plan that wouldn't, couldn't, fail. The last thing he had to do was pick up Kyle. He drove his old pickup down the old mess of a road. the town hadn't bothered to renovate the damn roads since he was a kid despite the multiple complaints to the mayor, who was and still is a dirty slut. His pickup was in fair condition though, at least in good as a condition of a new paint job and replaced wheels will get you.

Finally he could see that pale, vomit colored house in the near horizon. Soon Eric Theodore Cartman would have his cake and mockingly eat it too. His pickup pulled into the jew's driveway at 11:45. He stepped out, dusted his coat off, and exhaled, his warm breath catching in the cold Colorado air. He walked up to the silent house and raised his hand tentatively. This was it. The start of a new existence for Eric. A life without an annoying, ginger, jersey, jew. He knocked his knuckles on the door twice and winced cursing the frigid door.

A light flickered on and the door swung open almost startling Eric. "What do you want fatass? It's almost 12 am!".

Ah and there it was. The thing that got Eric's blood boiling and his heart fluttering.

"Kahl fucking Broflovski. How's it hanging ginger?"

Said ginger sighed. "Just fine till you showed up."

Eric laughed and Kyle notably flinched. Scared perhaps, or pretentious. Maybe Eric shouldn't laugh in front of Kyle for the remainder of the night. "Why don't you take a midnight ride with me baby?"

The words flowed out of his mouth like bittersweet honey. Satisfying, yet mortifying.

Kyle looked behind himself and his shoulders deflated. A sure sign of family issues that Eric told himself he didn't give a damn about. "Sure whatever fatass, let's go."

Eric's grin widened. "Alright! The jew's gonna ride in a pickup!"

Kyle scowled. "Stop that."

Eric's eyes steeled. "Never Kahl, not until the day you die."

Kyle's eyes wavered and he looked away. "C'mon let's just go."

Cartman grabbed Kyle by the wrist and dragged him to the truck. "In ya go my damsel of distress!" Eric hoisted Kyle into the passenger side.

"Goddammit fatass I'm not a damsel in distress!"

Eric only smiled and slammed the door shut. He slid into the driver's seat and started the old girl up. She sputtered for a moment and the roared to life.

"Quite a truck you got there eh?" Kyle eyed the ignition.

Cartman merely nodded and kept his heterochromatic eyes on the road. Kyle's eyes drifted back to the window and kept his jew mouth shut for the rest of the trip.

They arrived at the Cartman residence and stepped out and into the house. Eric's godawful mother greeted them. "Why hello Eric! And who's that, oh Kyle! Welcome sweetie! Want some cookies?"

Eric huffed angrily. "No mom, he doesn't want some goddamn cookies!"

Liane just smiled. "Well alright then. You boys be careful now!"

Eric threw some encouraging words over his shoulder as he headed out to his backyard. Eric smiled at the lone kiddie pool in the middle of the yard.

"What the literal fuck Cartman."

Eric jerked back to Kyle, jolted from his musings. "Well you see Kahl, I found something interesting in my old kiddie pool, something a covetous jew like yourself might like."

Kyle frowned. "Money?"

Eric grinned. "Something much more valuable."

He paused.

"Wanna see?"

Kyle tilted his head in a quick consideration. "Sure why not?"

Eric clapped his hand on Kyle's back and led him to the pool. "I don't see anything fatass."

Eric hummed. "Look a little closer!"

Eric's hands hovered over Kyle's neck as he leaned forward.

"What the fuck Cartman, there's nothing he-!"

Suddenly Eric's hands plunged Kyle's head beneath the water.

He could feel Kyle thrash beneath him. Squirm and jerk.

Eric had held lifeless bodies before but had never truly felt the life drain from them.

Kyle's movements grew weaker and something in Eric called out to save him, but Eric ignored it.

Finally Kyle was still.

Eric grinned and stood up, once again brushing off his coat. He was finally free.

Still something heavy weighed in the back of his mind.

He once again ignored it and went inside missing the sound of a single breath.


	2. It killed you like diseases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle survives somehow and falls right back down.

Kyle trembled slightly, holding what little air he had left in pursuit of survival.

The chubby hands squeezed once more before letting go. Kyle heard Cartman take a few steps back and stop.

Kyle's lungs lurched in his chest screaming for air. Kyle felt himself jerk and prayed to the god he didn't believe in, that Cartman didn't notice.

He heard the sliding doors shut and swung his head out of the water and gasped for air.

His heart's pulse sounded like thunder in his ears, his heaving chest spasming.

He was sucking in air but he still couldn't breathe.

Why was his chest still heaving?

Fuck.

Fuck!

Kyle started to panic as he was gasping for more air. He was having a severe asthma attack.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Goddamn Cartman and his sociopathic, psychotic shit!

He didn't have his goddamn inhaler for once because he left it on the nightstand, not expecting to leave the house this late.

Kyle fell to the ground, eyes open, lungs straining for air.

His hands twitched violently, and Kyle drunkenly wondered if this is how tweek felt all the time.

Kyle had escaped death just to trip and fall back in its clutches.

Kyle grabbed at his chest weakly in an attempt to do something, anything!

Then it happened.

A flash of purple, green, and yellow. Ha! Hallucinations? He really was going to die.

He was going to die feeling like he was being held and carried away.

Kyle felt light as a feather.

He even got in a laugh between his spasming diaphragm.

His vision was blurred and everything was so fast and LOUD!

LOUD! LOUD! LOUDLOUDLOUDLOUDLOUD! LOUD!

SO FUCKING LOUD!

Kyle laughed again, coughing up some liquid.

Blood or saliva, he didn't know. 

Kyle couldn't comprehend his surroundings anymore and finally succumbed to the darkness one final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if anyone can guess who saved him, kudos to you


	3. All that he invested in goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating for a while, i haven't had much motivation, but i'm back now!  
> Also yellow=kennys hair, purple and green=the mysterion outfit

The mysterious figure sets Kyle down in his bed, grabbing a discarded inhaler and to his best abilities, using it on the unconscious male. Kyle seems to breathe easier and Mysterion sighs and sits beside him. Since when did Cartman have a motive to kill Kyle? As far as Kenny knew, Cartman was hopelessly in love with Kyle. So why the fuck would Cartman drown him? It made no sense. Kenny did feel relief though. Maybe Kyle wouldn't get messed up in Cartman's crazy anymore. Even though Kenny could see the possibility of a good relationship, it would only be if Cartman got some help for his mental issues. Kenny sighed and got up.  It was nearly 3 am and they still had school tomorrow. Kenny lept through the window, and landed perfectly on the ground below, rushing to his house.

Unbeknownst to Kenny, when the clock struck 3, Kyle stirred but didn't wake, a strange glow settled over him. A couple houses away, the same thing happened to a sleeping Eric.

That morning was bound to be interesting.

                                                                                             ***

 

That morning, Eric, Kyle, Kenny, and Stan woke up at the same time, all of them unprepared for what was going to happen.

Eric got out of his bed feeling dizzy, and undecidedly different. He stood up and went to the bathroom, taking a quick piss, before washing his hands and heading down for breakfast. It was when his mom made him one of his least favorite things for breakfast, did he notice what was different. Eric was mad. Or he thought he was. Instead of a dozen curses, Eric was unbelievably nice to his mother.

"Thanks mom! This is so good!" Eric quickly shook off the foreign smile, very confused.

"You're welcome sweetie! I'm glad you like it!" His mom's voice no longer sounded sickening to him.

Eric clutched the sides of his head once his mom left the room.

What the fuck was happening to him?

                                                                                                ***

 

In Kyle's vomit green house, vicious yelling could be heard. This time not from Kyle's bitch of a mom or his terrible father. It was from the redhead himself.

"Fuck you guys! I fucking hate you goddamn kikes!"

Shelia stood in shock of her son's behavior.

"What? What? Whattttt? Kyle you shape up this instance or you're grounded!"

Gerald stood beside Sheila with a supportive arm over her shoulder.

"Whatever. Fuck you jews! I'm leaving!" Kyle runs out the door with his backpack and his trademark bright green ushanka, storming towards the bus stop.

When Kyle gets to the bus stop, just that face makes his blood boil. The nervous arch of Eric's eyebrows has Kyle aching to punch him. Eric turns to him with a smile.

"How's it going Kyle?"

Kyle's entire face darkens at this greeting and he stomps up to Eric grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, ignoring the protest of Kenny and Stan.

"How do you think fuckface! You nearly drowned me! I should fucking kill you for that!" Immediately, as if his memory had been electrocuted, Eric shrinks in on himself, suddenly terrified of Kyle.

"O-oh y-yeah, i-i-i i'm really sorry about that K-Kyle. I...i don't know what got into me!" Kyle's grip tightens as he all but snarls at Eric.

Eric trembles. "I'm really fucking sorry! Please let me go!" 

Kyle throws him to the ground, Eric's arm taking the brunt of the fall, letting out a sickening crack. Eric sobs and clutches his arm, the snow underneath him stained red.

"Think before you act next time jew. Maybe you won't end up with a broken arm."

Kenny and Stan look at Kyle confused, Kenny speaking up first.

"Uh Kyle, Eric isn't Jewish."

Eric groans from the ground, still crying.

"Y-yes I am Ken-Kenny!" Eric breaks into a whole new sob.

Kenny shrugs and looks at Stan, who returns the shrug.

"Ok let's say you're Jewish, Kyle aren't you as well?" Stan looked quizzically at Kyle.

Kyle almost lost it at Stan right then and there. His hands twitched, but he kept them at his side.

"I'm not a goddamn kike Stan. What the actual fuck!"

Stan takes a step back, bewildered at Kyle's response.

"Whoa dude! That's....that's really insensitive."

Kyle glared at Stan.

"And I don't really give a fuck."

At that, the bus rolled up and Kyle got on, leaving Stan and Kenny to help Cartman onto the bus.

                                                                                                          ***

 

Eric felt absolutely terrible. He was in so much pain. Plus he angered Kyle. The terrifying redhead who didn't take shit from anybody as long as Eric could remember. Didn't help that Eric's memory was kinda fuzzy anyways. Eric was honestly lucky that he'd gotten off with just a broken arm. Kyle could've actually killed him. Eric was sitting by Kenny, who was graciously letting him lean against his shoulder. Kenny was soft, which was surprising because Kenny never ate much. Kenny was really soft actually. So soft that Eric didn't mind dozing off against his shoulder. 

It was a good thing Kenny didn't mind either, confused about the entire morning, was content to have something normal occur.


	4. I'd say he needs medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School always takes a toll on the soul, today more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me updating the very next day

Eric woke up with a jolt, a warm hand pushing against his face. He whipped his head to the side to find Kenny's face startlingly close to his own. Kenny's expression was twisted into a concerned stare.

"Hey we're at school, you ok?"

Eric merely nodded, pulling his body away from Kenny's and standing. Suddenly Eric was back against Kenny, his face pressed against Kenny's chest awkwardly. The rough hands that put him there, withdrew from his back. Eric heard the angry footsteps fade and dared to stand again.

"Sorry Kenny! I'm so sorry!"

Eric felt like he was going to cry. His insides melting into an amalgamation of worry, stress, anxiety, and embarrassment. Kenny suddenly took Eric's hand in his. Eric bared the boy's meek weight as Kenny used Eric to pull himself up. Kenny then wrapped his arms around Eric and patted his back.

"Don't worry man, it's all chill."

Eric breathed a shaky sigh of relief and hugged Kenny tighter before pulling off abruptly at the shock of noise.

"Get your asses off my damn bus!"

The pissed off bus driver leaned from his seat and stared at them. Eric could feel his face heat up as he rushed off the bus. He nicked his right arm on the bus door and crumpled to the ground in renewed pain. Kenny's hands were immediately on his sides making Eric wince.

"Ugh fuck.."

Kenny flipped Eric onto his back, forcing Eric to look into those blindingly ice blue eyes.

"What the fuck. Happened yesterday."

Who knew two sentences, coming from a poverty stricken immortal, could invoke so much compliance? Eric already wanted to tell him everything. Not that Kenny didn't basically already know. Eric closed his eyes, breathing twice before opening them.

"I don't know." Eric paused at Kenny's scowl. "Ok, well I do, but not entirely. I clearly remember me trying to drown Kyle, but I have no idea why. Also I noticed that for some reason, I'm nicer. Which is weird to say, because as far as my memory serves me, I've always been nice, but something feels....off."

Eric couldn't keep up with Kenny's intense stare and kept looking to the side. Anywhere but those pools of reflective ice, making him feel self conscious. Kenny's head tilted to the side as he suddenly yanked him up. He firmly grabbed my shoulders and stared into, what felt like, my soul.

"Ok."

The one word sufficing for all the feeling behind it. Kenny let go of my shoulders, exchanging the tight grip for a soft one tugging him to the nurses office. Eric followed him seeing really no other choice. Not a good one at least. The thoughts danced at the edges of his eyes. All the possibilities flashing before him. He could let himself bleed out, could use the pocket knife wedged between his ankle and his boots to do perfectly speakable, but unspeakable acts against himself, he could hand the knife to Kyle and find comfort in him dying by the redhead's hands, or he could simply do the sane thing his mind wasn't screaming at him and keep following Kenny. Eric suddenly realized he was standing beside himself, the boy in that iconic, ever dirty, orange parka, ahead of him looking back worriedly. Eric shook his head and walked back up to Kenny, grabbing his hand. As they walked in the stifling silence, Eric reflected on his relationship with Kenny. They were pretty good friends all things considered. A few 'fatass' jabs here paired well with all the jokes about Kenny being poor. Eric's thoughts came to a screeching halt. That last sentence echoed in his mind, feeling foreign and not his own. Since when did he ever insult Kenny? Eric was reeling in confusion, following Kenny blindly now. Eric wracked his memories for anything remotely about him insulting Kenny. His mind flashed a scene before him. He was laughing at Kenny. An insult flashed in his mind.

"Kenny's family is so poor that yesterday, they had to put their cardboard box up for a second mortgage"

The Eric in the scene was laughing hysterically, clutching his sides. The memory seemed to glitch, and a different but same one appeared over it. This Eric had a hand on Kenny's shoulder, kindly squeezing.

"I'm sorry your parents had to put up another mortgage, anything I can do to help?"

As the Kenny in his mind turned to him, he blinked and the real Kenny was in front of him. They had finally arrived at the nurses office. Eric twitched at Kenny's stare and glanced at the door in front of him, reaching out with his left hand to open it. His hand was brutally slapped as Kenny glared at him and opened the door himself, greeting the nurse. The nurse, surprisingly experienced and well equipped, put his arm in a cast and sling, advising him to be cautious and to watch his footing, a lie expertly told by the parka clad blonde. Eric, who was now mellowed on pain meds, drowsily thanked the nurse and stumbled out the door.

                                                                                                     ***

 

Kyle was fuming as usual? Kyle didn't know anymore. His conflicting memories smashing against each other the longer he thought about Eric. Scenes where Eric was mean to him were replaced by Kyle being impressively violent. The most conflicting memory was last night's. The hands on his neck were Eric's and the next moment, it was his slender fingers wrapped tightly around Eric's spasming throat as he heaved for air. It was Kyle on the ground gasping for air. Or was it Kyle walking calmly home as he thought the deed was done? It was Eric spouting aggravating words like 'baby' or 'jew'. Then it was Kyle's hand, damp with chloroform, the dirty rag pressed against Eric's terrified face. For a second Kyle was terrified of the storm inside his head, the next he was graciously called on to answer a question, providing a perfect distraction.

"Radical 632 is..."

Kyle paused. Thinking for a quick moment.

"25.13."

The class gaped at him and Mr.Garrison stared as he entered it on his calculator, getting the same answer as Kyle.

"W-well done Kyle."

Mr.Garrisons accent was hard to describe, a mix between southern or country and something he couldn't place. His voice was flat but not flat enough to hide his constant annoyance at the class, or in this instance his surprise and maybe, was it possible, admiration? Kyle shrugged and finished his worksheet in record time. Strange. The thoughts had stopped swarming, exchanging confusion and anger for intelligence. Kyle didn't mind, but then he had nothing to do again.

His thoughts rushed back at him, all wanting a bigger bite out of him than the last.


	5. Well, I could see it in his jaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric gets injured again and dances with something other than his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this? Two in one night? Sorry it's a bit short. Also I changed all chapter names to lyrics from Wires, by The Neighbourhood.

Eric made it to the hallway his locker is in just as the bell screeches above him. He shoves off the way he jolted at the sound, and continues to his locker. It's the people rushing out of doors that jogs Eric's memory of exactly where his locker is and what his next class is. His locker is right next to Kyle's and he has history with the entire gang which means more torture at those soft, slender, smooth hands. Eric stares at his hands in disgust. How could he think about Kyle like that? Kyle made his life almost a living hell, though that honor was given to Kenny, yet Eric found himself living for the moments they were together. Eric knew once his whore of a mom got her shit together, and he got a job, he was going to therapy for this stockholm syndrome bullshit. Eric felt a small relief at his usual speech pattern returned. Was it usual? Eric didn't care. He put in his easy to remember combo; 14-4-20. Another combo flashed in his mind, one he's seen twisted into the lock many times before; 21-6-9. Kyle's combo. Why was Eric remembering shit like this? And yet, the answer presented itself faster than Eric could think. His eyes slashed over to the forbidden locker next to him. The lock so easily openable. Eric stared at it some more before his locker was slammed shut on his left hand. Eric cried out in pain, sure his fingers had to be broken. He looked up at the perpetrator, the familiar ushanka a relief and stressor. It's owner glared at him, Kyle's eyes a mix of anger and something else that gleamed maliciously. Kyle's mouth seemed to twitch, trying to form a smile at the display before him, a mix of a snarl and a sick grin, his sharp canines visible. Eric whines at the display of emotion on Kyle's face and at the pain searing through his hand. Kyle broke out into that sick grin and picked Eric up by his collar again.

"What are you doing by my locker, fag?"

Eric's hand throbbed, bleeding from the skin that got ripped off during the harsh tug of his hand out of the locker.

"M-my locker's here too."

Eric wheezed, the collar grabbing today was really putting strain on his throat. Kyle grinned wider, teeth gleaming in the light emanated from the cheap, cylindrical light bulbs the school used.

"Who the fuck cares."

The malice in Kyle's voice was almost too much to handle. He felt like he was going to die in Kyle's grip, pathetically in front of basically the whole school. Eric tried squirming out of Kyle's hold but couldn't get Kyle to let go, only furthering his discomfort as Kyle gripped him tighter. Kyle looked like he was about to say something, but then the bell rang. Kyle unceremoniously dropped Eric, grabbed his stuff, and walked towards history, throwing a remark over his shoulder.

"See you in history, fatass."

Eric clutched at his throat, only partially trying to hurry to maintain some dignity. He grabbed his stuff, eyed the lock again, and headed to history.

                                                                                                      ***

 

Kenny and Stan watched the display before them, both thinking how it was reversed and grossly out of the regular proportions. They both were appalled at the entire morning really, the start and how it progressed, strange and abnormal. Though, since this was South Park after all, it wasn't that strange. I mean wasn't super mecha Barbra Streisand weird enough? No, what really struck home was that it was a normalcy being flipped and distorted, an everything occurrence being altered. Kenny ended up having to tug Stan to history, the latter dumbstruck by the interaction between Kyle and Cartman.

"C'mon Stan, I can't keep dragging your ass forever. I mean I can, I just don't want to."

Kenny speaking seemed to snap Stan out of it, letting him walk by himself. He walked beside Kenny, silent and kind of brooding. But for a former goth kid, that wasn't saying much. They finally arrived at history, that was taught by the daughter of the late Ms. Choksondik. Apparently, 6 years after her mothers death, the unknown child, Cassandra Choksondik, finally made her debut in South Park, ripe with a prestigious degree in history, to teach South Park High. Sighing, Kenny held the door open for Stan, who upon seeing the ruckus inside, paused right in the middle of the doorway. Kenny annoyed with Stan's incompetency, pushed past him. The scene before him was almost too surreal.

Kyle was practically straddling Eric, with a shining pocket knife, against Eric's throat.


	6. Won't tell me to stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric dances with death, who is surprisingly good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter! For your reading pleasure!

Kyle purposefully took a detour to history, hoping Eric would enter first. God, what was he even doing? There was something about Eric, previously in power, to be whining in front of him, that gave Kyle a sick satisfaction. Come to think of it, when was Eric in power? Kyle couldn't use the attempted drowning, his memories still jumbled like undecipherable letters. He thought about it and a memory came to his thoughts. It was Kyle, lying on a hospital bed. That Kyle woke up, and was glad to be alive while the other cot beside him groaned. It was Eric, who was pissed off to say the least, yelling about being tricked into donating a kidney to the previously dying Kyle, everyone ignoring him. The memory then faded into a replica of itself that had major details changed. This replica of Kyle threatened Eric, who enthusiastically complied to giving up his kidney. Then when this Kyle and Eric woke up, Eric was a blubbering mess against Kyle, crying, tears and snot flowing, but Kyle ignored him and pushed Eric aside, looking pissed off and mildly grateful. Which was the actual truth? To some people, a fabricated truth, is what they wholeheartedly believe. Kyle didn't know anymore and frankly didn't care as he watched Eric walk in before him. He followed closely behind him and tripped him, hooking his right foot in front of Eric's. Eric fell to the ground with an ear splitting cry, clutching himself. He had landed on his arm again. Kyle felt a twinge of sympathy, but brushed it aside as he spotted the dislodged pocket knife that the light seemed to spark off of as it sat near Eric's ankle. Kyle felt that euphoric, but terrible grin creep onto his face again, the implications of it sickening to his pale stomach. Kyle basically fell, albeit graceful, on top of Eric, his legs on either side of the overweight brunette, effectively pinning his arms and keeping him on the ground. Eric looked up startled and wheezing, obviously terrified. Kyle felt down Eric's leg, hands searching for the knife, giving small squeezes to make Eric more uncomfortable. Slender fingers locked on their target and his arm whipped upwards, thumb flicking the blade open eloquently. Eric became more afraid, if possible, and turned his head away. Kyle roughly grabbed his face and titled it back towards himself, Wanting Eric to look him in the eyes when he commits the deed. Knife wavering shakily, over Eric's throat. Here he was. The perfect chance to end Eric's miserable, pathetic life. And yet Kyle couldn't do it. Something was holding him back. The prospect of losing Eric tugged at the confines of his mind and heart in a way Kyle couldn't start to understand. Kyle couldn't comprehend his inability to murder the pathetic boy before him, and he didn't try to. He set the knife down on Eric's spasming chest, getting up, and sat down in his usual spot. Leaving the whole class confused and in a sick awe of what happened.

 

Eric was shaking, a trembling, wet faced, mess on the floor, as his brain tried to catch up with the recent events. Eric felt warm hands on his shoulders again, the soft face of Kenny in his vision. Eric took two deep breaths in and out, before accepting Kenny's help getting up. Eric shakily made his way to his seat, directly behind Kyle. Eric grabbed his hair in mental distress, and in pain. Mostly pain. Eric wanted to die. Thinking back, he almost did. That knife, tantalizingly close to his throat, the redhead's hands quivering in anticipation. Eric shuddered at the thought of him bleeding out in front of Kyle, the only thing he'd be sure of is that sick grin would be plastered on his face. Eric listened to Ms. Cassandra, who realized the inappropriate and sexual implications of her last name decided Cassandra was just fine, droned on about math, which eventually devolved into personal problems that reminded everyone of when Mr. Garrison was Ms. Garrison, and was confused about her sexuality, yet again. Eric was relieved to have a distraction and zoned out until he heard Ms. Cassandra call out his name in her voice, frighteningly similar to the late Ms. Choksondik.

"H-huh?" Eric was somewhat mortified. It looked bad to not be fully listening! Especially to a teacher. Then again, surely she has noticed his recent struggles lately. Right?

"Eric, you're paired with Broflovski for our upcoming project. Listen up next time ok?"

Apparently not. Eric slowly turned his head to Kyle in mortification, knowing his death is surely imminent. Suddenly Eric's head was reeling in confusion. Kyle was fondly smiling at him, head tilted back and to the side. Eric smiled back weakly, not wanting to upset him again? Did Eric really ever upset Kyle? Eric shook away that thought. Of course he did. He was loud, annoying, sociopathic, is always on edge, probably overly nice, and had a whore for a mom. He was a fuck-up and Kyle was there to put him in his place. Eric wondered if his place is six feet under the dirt, silently decaying. He looked back at Kyle who made a very confusing gesture. Kyle had his hand in front of his mouth, first and second fingers in the shape of a V with his tongue in between. Seriously, what the actual fuck? Eric felt his face heat up and he looked away hearing some assorted laughter. God, he felt like such a loser; so easily baited into giving away his dignity. Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, Kenny, always there to reassure him. He didn't deserve Kenny. Or anyone really. Fuck. Eric's mind was swirling with a bunch of self deprecating insults. Eric sighed in defeat when he heard specifically, Kyle's laughter fade into, presumably, angry whispering. He walked over to Ms. Cassandra.

"Can I....Can I use the bathroom please?"

Ms. Cassandra looked him up and down.

"I guess."

She handed him the pass and as he walked out, he heard a low mutter that was definitely Kyle.

"Stupid kike."


	7. You knew the game and played it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric has some issues, but so does Kenny
> 
>  
> 
> Also 420 blaze it

Eric hurried to the bathroom, and slumped down against the wall. Eric clutched at his hair. What was even happening? That smile seemed genuine, yet before he left the classroom, he'd been called a 'stupid kike'. Kyle had to be fucking with him. Luring him into a false sense of security, just to rip it all away with some well thrown insults, or maybe another injury. Eric started to sob. God what had happened to him? Didn't he have more self confidence and wasn't he overly prideful? At least something better than a fucking pussy. No wonder Kyle hated him, he was the fucking worst. A sensitive little bitch who couldn't handle anything. Eric was suddenly wishing Kyle had slit his throat. At least he wouldn't be crying in the bathroom like a baby. With that thought, the bathroom door opened. Who the fuck could that be?

                                                                                                                  *

Kenny saw Eric leave the classroom and decided to follow, giving no fucks if the teacher cared or not. Eric was more important. At least this Eric was. The Eric that was dreadfully sensitive about Kyle related things. The Eric that was kind and sweet and.....hell no. Kenny was not falling for Cartman. Kenny was just being a supportive friend, nothing more. Er-Cartman didn't even like him like that. Kenny fucking McCormick was thinking with his heart not his goddamn dick. At least that's what his mind screamed at him. He opened up the bathroom door to find Eric sniffling and crying, slumped against a wall.

"Eric?"

Eric went silent for a moment.

"Ke-Kenny?"

God, why did Eric saying his name properly do things to him? This is fatass we're talking about here! Kenny shook his head briefly and looked at Eric with a soft smile.

"Yeah buddy, it's me."

Eric cutely wipes his face and looks away.

"Why are you here? Isn't class important?"

Kenny frowns. What happened to Eric T. Cartman? Usually he acted like he was the most important thing in the world.

"Not more important than a hurting friend." 

Kenny offered a reassuring smile. Eric shuddered but stood up, his head down, arms tightly pressed against his side. Kenny took a step forward, arms out, ready to hug.

"Stop."

Eric's voice chilled him to the bone. Eric was still staring at the floor, and the downright cold atmosphere did not suit Eric's stance or the tears dripping wetly on the floor.

"I'm nobody's friend. Everyone hates me one way or another. They all silently laugh and ridicule me. No one is there for m-"

Kenny cut Eric off with a firm hug.

"None of that shit. I'm here for you Eric."

Kenny buried his face into Eric's shoulder, indulging in the moment guiltily. Why did he have to smell so good? The scent of cinnamon and musk was inviting. The innocence of Eric sobbing into his shoulder appealed to him so much, the amount of trust associated with the act. The tiny, soft sounds escaping Eric should be illegal. The way Eric clutched on his jacket should be banned and the tears soaking his shoulder erased. Eric sobbed, hiccuping, and Kenny hugged him tighter. Kenny suddenly stiffened, the reason for his irrational thoughts. The feelings he felt for Eric are a mistake. The feelings are simply an error; a change in Eric's attitude caused a change in the way Kenny felt. This wasn't a sexual like or even love. Kenny simply had never associated Eric as a true friend, so his emotions were fucky. Kenny McCormick liked tits and reading explicit magazines instead of studying, not dicks and Eric Cartman. He hadn't got laid recently either, maybe that was the problem? He'd try and fix that tonight. Suddenly the presence of Eric crying was too much for him. Kenny pulled back slowly and patted Eric on the shoulder awkwardly.

"Clean up your face and lets get back to class buddy."

Eric sniffed once in reply, splashing his face with water and turning back towards Kenny to leave. Kenny opened the door, holding it for him as Eric shuffled out of the bathroom, dragging his feet. Kenny watched Eric depart for class before going back into the bathroom and locking himself in an empty stall. Kenny lit up a joint, pulling out his switch blade. He sat on the lid of the toilet, placing his blade on the top of the shiny grey trash can. Kenny took in a puff, and let it out, his pain tolerance increasing, and his body numbing. Kenny thought about his emotions and picked up his shiny piece of metal. He brought the knife down against his arm, the sleeve already rolled up. His hissed in pain, blood gushing out of the wound. Kenny inhaled some more of his body numbing weed. As his body seemed to drift apart from him, he kept thinking until his emotions were a swirl of torture and he kept cutting, over and over again, slashing his wrists and arms. Suddenly his whirlwind of emotions were more than the pain of his various lacerations. Not even the weed was working. Having, in his mind, no other solution, Kenny plunged the bloodied switchblade into his chest four times before the blade clattered to the floor. Kenny took in two ragged breaths and stopped breathing, his body slumping against the wall of the stall. During his hysteria, Kenny had unlocked the stall, the door slightly ajar.

                                                                                                                          *

Eric stood in front of the door for a while, trying to compose himself. He was almost ready when his mind reminded him of what, or rather who, was missing. Why hadn't Kenny left the bathroom yet? Eric walked back to said place to check on him. Eric walked inside, leaving the main door wide open.

"Kenny?"

No response. But, there was a door that was slightly open. Was Kenny in there? He walked up to the door.

"Kenny? I-I'm gonna open the door now! Y-You better not have your dick out or something because I swear to fucking go-"

Eric swung open the door and stared in shock at the sight before him. He fell to his knees and vomited, his heart pounding.

Eric trembled in his now vomit covered clothes, and screamed.


End file.
